


Something Good

by casfallsinlove



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bunker Fic, Domestic, Fallen Castiel, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, SO MUCH FLUFF, basically dean's big gay crisis or something
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-06
Updated: 2013-08-06
Packaged: 2017-12-22 15:34:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/914914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casfallsinlove/pseuds/casfallsinlove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean likes boobs. This is just a fact of life. Dean likes perky boobs on pretty women. Loves them. They turn him on, big time. This is an established certitude.</p>
<p>But what it doesn’t explain is why, for the love of God, he can’t stop thinking about kissing Cas senseless.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Good

**Author's Note:**

> This is a whole bunch of pure unadulterated fluff set in the bunker sometime after season eight, I guess. 
> 
> (Also on [tumblr](http://casfallsinlove.tumblr.com).)

Dean Winchester likes boobs.

This is just a fact of life, to be honest: Dean likes perky boobs on pretty women. Loves them. You can ask John (who tore 13-year-old Dean a new one after he found a crumpled Busty Asian Beauties hidden under the backseat of the Impala) or Sam (who's had to put up with his brother's womanising ways most of his life, poor kid).

Women have soft curves and long swishy hair, delicate hands and slender legs, perfect lips and smokey eyes and painted nails, and they always smell nice, like fruity shampoo and elegant perfumes. Women whisper filthy things in his ear, their voices smooth and hushed. And all of it turns Dean on. Big time.

So yeah, Dean likes the ladies. This is an established certitude.

But what it doesn't explain is why, for the love of God, he can't stop thinking about kissing Cas senseless.

Castiel. Ex-Angel of the Lord in a very male body, _that_ Castiel. Who walks around the bunker now in sweatpants slung low on his hips and thin t-shirts that reveal more of his skin than Dean has ever seen. And that should _not_ give him a hard on.

(You're a deplorable excuse for a human being, Dean Winchester.)

But the thing is, none of this makes any sense. Because Cas isn't even _trying_ to turn Dean on (at least, he freaking well hopes not because that's a whole other level of weird that he wouldn't be able to handle). No, Cas is just _there_ , being a miserable shit like always, and Dean's hiding his crotch behind tables and bookcases and the back of the couch.

Which is stupid. Cas isn't soft curves and long swishy hair. He's six-feet of hard lines and muscles, still strong enough to take down Dean, probably, and his hair is a perpetual bird's nest.

Cas's hands aren't _delicate_ they're rough, much like Dean's own. And yeah, they're pretty nice as hands go (what, of course Dean was gonna notice, the amount of times those freakin' fingers have zapped him places) but they're calloused and weather-beaten, and his nails are often grubby with gun-oil and grave-dirt.

Cas smells like soap, mostly, unless they're on a hunt and then it's salt and sweat and earth. Sometimes he goes out for a while to 'be by himself' and comes back with the lingering scent of coffee and fast-food caught in his shirt.

Then there are Cas's lips, always chapped and dry like the dude hasn't heard of chapstick, and more often than not these days his blue eyes are ringed with exhaustion and there's a permanent layer of scritchy scruff creeping up his pale jaw. And there's nothing smooth about his voice either, which always has had and always will have the gravelly intonation of a man dying of thirst.

So do you see Dean's dilemma here? There is no reason whatsoever why any of that should have found itself firmly implanted in his spank bank when he so clearly likes boobs and ladies.

But then, it's these little things that keep getting to him. Like how grumpy Cas is in the mornings before he's had a coffee, his eyes all narrowed in contempt at the world as he shuffles around in his pyjamas. And how his method of testing the freshness of eggs is to sacrifice one to the kitchen floor. And how he takes fucking forever in the shower and neglects to mention that he's used all the hot water until Dean's in there himself freezing his balls off.

Cas watches television with the utmost concentration and reads books at the speed of light. He drinks beer and likes pie (every sort but banoffee, the freak) and keeps an eye on Sam in the same way Dean always has.

For his bedroom Cas bought a dinosaur poster from a thrift store, because apparently he never got an opportunity to meet a T-Rex. He brings Dean cereal sometimes with not enough milk and freshly-squeezed orange juice complete with pulp _and_ pips, but looks so endearing when he does so that to Dean it tastes just great anyway, and what's a little choking hazard in the mornings?

But it's not until Cas makes pizza one night (and by 'makes' Dean means that he decorates three ready-made pizzas with a variety of extra toppings) and spells out their names in pepperoni pieces on the top of each with this huge pleased smile on his face that it hits Dean.

He's in love with Cas.

Holy mother of Jesus fucking Christ and  _oh God_.

All these months of Big Gay Crisis, questioning why he was thinking of blue eyes and a stubbled jaw when he jerked off, and why he even let Cas back into the bunker in the first place after _everything_ , and the looks Sam shoots between them when he thinks they can't see--it's not because he's gay at all, not really. It's not men in general that do it for him, it's one man. It's because it's Cas.

So he waits until Cas has put the pizzas in the oven, mitts and apron on like an old maid, and then when he straightens up again Dean kisses him. To test his theory. Right there in the kitchen, where Sam could easily see if he were to walk in. (And later, when Sam's out, maybe they'll do a lot worse than just kiss in the kitchen).

And no, kissing Cas is nothing like kissing a woman. It's a hundred times better, even if it is all tongue and teeth and is a bit sloppy and no one's really sure where to put their hands until Dean finds those problematic hipbones and Cas's fingers fist in his hair.

It's insanely hot, too. So what if Cas isn't a girl? So what if he's a guy, and they're just two manly men making out in the kitchen? Because Dean's pretty damn sure it's never felt like this before, and he isn't about to stop now.

(Or ever, really.)


End file.
